Taken From Me
by Crimson Firebreeze
Summary: One Shot: Malik is alone with his broken heart a year after the woman he loved walked out of his life. Now he must come to terms with the fact that she may very well be gone for good. But watching Altair with Sibylla is making it harder to cope.


_Takes place after both "The Master's Novice" and "Famous Last Words" Since it jumps around in the timeline of my friend's story, I will lgive you the summary:_

_On the way back from Damascus, Sibylla was kidnapped by Saracen soldiers. Literally ripped from Altair's arms. Sibylla was made a part of Saladin's harem and she was raped and impregnated by soldiers. The baby was then taken from her. Altair has no idea what happened to her and we have not decided if he ever finds out. Meanwhile, Alice was was out wandering around Jerusalem when she was confronted by a Templar. As Altair has the Eagle Vision ability, apparently Alice has has the ability to see memories and the intent of people. When the Templar touched her, she saw his memories and realized that Malik had not told her everything about her past. She then chose to leave with the templar and return to her father and take her rightful place as princess. _

_As i have said before, these one shots were requested of my by my friend to keep her inspired as she writes her fic._

_Now Enjoy._

* * *

Malik sat silently at his counter within the Jerusalem Assassin's Bureau, his maps neglected, the rising sun casting an odd shadow over the room. He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, his stubble longer than usual. He was a mess and he knew it. What did he care though? He was angry with everything. Fate, God, Altair, himself. Why did his world have to come crashing down? Why did he have to lose everything? This had to be a cruel nightmare that he was going to wake up from at any minute, though a dull throb from the vacant socket of his left shoulder reminded him that he was very much awake and all of this was real.

The shuffle of leather boots on the tiled floors told him someone was up. From the stride, he knew it was Altair, that bastard. Everything was his fault. It had to be. Kadar was killed in Solomon's Temple because of him. His left arm was gone because of him. Alice had gotten hurt because of him. Sibylla had been kidnapped because of him. Everything had happened because of him! How he hated the favorite of Al Mualim! And yet, one look at his fellow assassin, his brother in arms, told him that Altair was not much better off than him right now.

Altair's movement told him it had been a long night, the dark circles around the other man's eyes indicating a lack of sleep, pale skin only confirming it. Altair looked as bad as he, himself, felt. He was bare-chested, red scratch marks in angry trails over scared flesh, bruises in some places accompanied by a bite mark or two. Upon closer inspection, Malik noticed Altair's eyes were bloodshot and puffy, as if he had been crying. Was he even capable of tears? Yes, on a rare occasion, but what would be making him cry now?

"You look horrible," said Altair in that arrogant bark that Malik hated so much.

"And you don't look much better," he replied.

Altair rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and yawned, stretching his back as he did so and rolling his shoulders. There were several audible pops and cracks that made Malik cringe as it reminded him of how tense he was. He was surprised when Altair did not snap back at him as usual. Instead the other man sat down cross legged on the floor, rubbing his eyes again, before he ran long fingers through his hair.

"She's finally asleep," muttered Altair with a sigh.

"Did you spend the whole night making advances on her, only to fail miserably, as you do at everything," growled Malik bitterly. He'd kill to have Alice back in his bed.

"I wish that was the case. I can't touch her. She shies away from me. Whatever _he_ did to her… I should kill him."

Malik looked at the other man, who was picking at a spot of blood on his pants. He knew who Altair was referring to and his own hot anger welled up. Saladin had arranged for Sibylla to be a part of his harem because of her bloodline. Had Malik known this detail, he never would have trained the girl to be an assassin. All this time, he had been caring for, training and raising the daughter of not only his master, Al Mualim, but the illegitimate child of the former queen of the Holy Land. He sighed, still trying to come to terms with the fact that he had been caring for not one, but two princesses. Alice was the daughter of King Richard.

_"Alice…"_

"How are you, brother," Altair's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Can you not see by looking at me?"

Altair was quiet again for a long time. Malik didn't mind. His thoughts were on that day. How could Alice claim to love him so much, give up her purity to him and then just leave? Pain gripped his heart as he remembered the sight of her walking out of Jerusalem with a Templar. She had been everything he had left. He should have gone after her, even if it meant getting killed. At least then it would be a profession of his love for her.

"Malik," said Altair with an undertone of impatience.

"She's married," he spat. "Happily so and to a Templar. My informants tell me that her _husband_ is training her to be one as well."

"So, she has betrayed the Creed and us. Sibylla will be-"

"Don't you dare tell her, Altair," Malik hissed fiercely. "Don't you dare do it. She'll shut down completely and there will be no way to get her back. Losing Kadar was enough and I was lucky that she chose to fight instead of mourn. Whatever Saladin did to her could already have ruined her and to find out about Alice would break her."

"She's strong than that," came Altair's defensive growl.

"No, Altair, she isn't. She is still a woman. There is a reason that Al Mualim and others before him did not allow women into our ranks. They are not designed by God above to be ruthless killers."

"And men were?"

"We were made to protect them, our women, from anything that would harm them. So yes, we were."

"You clearly do not know Sibylla."

"Altair, do NOT tell me that I don't know my own sister! _I_ found her and Alice! _I_ raised them, cared for them and trained them! _I_ sheltered them from harm! Do not presume that you can come here and believe that you know her thoroughly just because she has a childish fancy for you!"

Malik glared at Altair. The man just stared at him coolly, which almost scared him. Altair was hotheaded and quick to argue every last point. But he didn't this time. He just stared, without anger. Malik looked away and down at his neglected maps. They used to give him such peace, but now he couldn't be bothered with them.

"The things women confess into the sheets," mumbled Altair.

Malik froze, his blood running cold. He knew exactly what Altair meant by that comment and a silent rage bubbled up within him. He wanted to hurt him, badly. Knowing the great ass, he'd forced her. Sibylla wouldn't willingly go to bed with him, she couldn't. Not so soon after Kadar's death. She wouldn't forget him for Altair.

"You… you… touched…" he was too angry to even form a sentence.

"Yes," growled Altair. "I took her to bed, twice, while we were in Damascus. Don't look at me like that, Malik, you knew it was going to happen. And before you start accusing me of anything, _she_ gave herself to me, _willingly_."

Malik continued to glare at Altair. He couldn't, he wouldn't believe this. His stomach churned at the thought. He knew it had been a mistake to let her become his apprentice. The urge to hit him, throw something at him, harm him in some way grew to a white hot rage.

"Stay away from her, Altair," he growled dangerously.

The rage Malik had been expecting from him earlier now clearly surged to the surface. Altair turned dark eyes on him and snarl formed on his lips. The pure hatred Malik saw in his eyes almost rendered him stupid with the epiphany that now burst into existence in his mind. Altair was in love with Sibylla. This went beyond the two of them just giving into carnal desires of the flesh. He knew Altair would kill him if he really tried to keep them apart. How could he have not seen it before? Altair had been adamant on finding Sibylla before he went back to the assignment Al Mualim had set before him. If Al Mualim had allowed Altair to go after her, perhaps it would not have taken over a year to find her. Altair had never stopped searching. But he, Malik, had given up.

Pain gripped Malik's heart as he watched the other man bristle in defense of the woman he loved. Perhaps if he had done that when Alice was leaving with the templar, she'd still be here. Now he loathed himself. But how could he go after her when she willingly left? Sibylla had been ripped from Altair's arms while Alice had just walked out of Jerusalem. How could he argue with that? How could he demand she stay when she was not happy here? And now she was one of them.

"Who did she marry," came Altair's voice causing him to jump because of its softness, though the anger was still evident in the undertone.

"You won't like it." Malik said. Altair must have taken his silence as him backing down.

"I did not ask if I would like it. I asked who it was."

"… Robert de Sable," he answered with a defeated sigh.

There was that anger again, evident in the tensing of Altair's muscles. Malik involuntarily flinched as Altair stood and once again brought cold eyes towards him. Robert de Sable was a sore subject for Altair and the source of a rather large bruise to his pride.

"She is a traitor, Malik," he growled. "You'd do well to forget her. Trust me, brother… Sibylla would see you… You should go sit with her so that she does not wake up alone."

Altair moved out of the room. Malik heard him scale the wall up to the opening and knew he meant to watch the sun rise and think on this latest slight against the Brotherhood; he wouldn't go anywhere without his robes. Malik stood there for a long time, his heart aching in his chest, unshed tears burning his eyes. He didn't know if they were tears of anger for Altair's words or if they were tears of pain because he'd lost the last person that really had meant something to him.

"I can't," he said softly to the emptiness that Altair left in his wake. "I love her."

* * *

_Hey guess what? Alice is not really married to Robert de Sable. Malik was misinformed. But she is betrothed to him and he is training her as a Templar. She is still in love with her gimpy assassin though._

_Assassin's Creed is the property of Ubisoft.  
Sibylla is my character and ONLY Ashley Canales has permission to use her.  
Alice and the original concept for this story belongs to Ashley Canales and is used with permission._


End file.
